


Hotel Habits

by Ya_Boi_Iggy



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I thought of this in the shower, SO, Soap, just fluff, yknow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 13:40:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15842421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ya_Boi_Iggy/pseuds/Ya_Boi_Iggy
Summary: You and Sam spend the night in a hotel, seeking shelter from the storm that was ravaging the historic city of Edinburgh. Unfortunately- or perhaps fortunately- your pursuit for knowledge in the national museum would have to be postponed for tonight.





	Hotel Habits

One of the many things you learned in your time as a treasure hunter, was that you could scale walls in the damp heat of Varanasi, and wade through muddy bogs of the English countryside; slide down tropical landslides, or blitz your way through the thick snows of Alaska. You could travel the world in pursuit of riches, but one thing would never change.

You couldn't stand being caught in the rain.

No matter what weather or climate you were faced with, you would always adapt, or push on through. But the moment a sprinkle of rain was present, you were all but scuttling for shelter like a cockroach under a rock.

Which is why you were glad that the worst of it had held off until you and your accomplice were safely tucked away in your hotel room for the night. Heavy rain was now pelting like tiny bullets against the window, reverberating off the glass screen with sounds akin to the "tap-tap" of small pebbles. You watched from your third-floor room as people bustled around in the streets below. Some were hugging the hoods of their coats to their head, others clutching to umbrellas like a life-line. One poor bastard was in nothing more than running gear, powering through his evening jog with waning determination.

"Rather you than me," you muttered to yourself as the bathroom door creaked open, announcing that your partner had finished his shower. Sam was followed from the white tiled room- more yellow than white now, but it was easy to tell what the original colour was intended to be- by a cloud of steam. You knew all too well Sam liked his showers hot enough to scald. It wasn't an unusual occurrence for you to turn on the shower after he had occupied it, and be met with boiling water that had you cursing the man's existence.

"Shower's all yours if you want it," he called, pittering about the room in search of his duffel bag, wearing nothing but tight boxer shorts, and a towel around his neck. For a man nearly pushing fifty, he was well toned, and a sight to be appreciated.

So appreciate you did. Inclining your head in a sideways tilt as he bent down to retrieve his bag from beside the bed. You wolf whistled, and his head shot up, eyes fixing you with a warning glare that was betrayed by a cheeky grin.

"Watch it," he chuckled.

You stuck your tongue out in reply, and moved towards the bed, sitting on the edge and openly admiring the twist and bunch of his muscles as he fished out a pair of old sweatpants he refused to get rid of, despite the things having a hole in the back pocket, and fading colour on the knees. He tugged them on and looked at you.

"You're staring a lot today," he remarked, a hint of pride in his voice as he snatched his silver lighter and pack of cigarettes from the bedside table, "there must be something in the rain."

"Can't a girl admire her boyfriend?" You retorted, leaning over and plucking his bad habit right out of his hands. He protested, naturally, Sam could barely go half an hour without a cigarette. But you simply ignored his pleas for his things back, and shoved them into the opposing bedside drawer on your side of the bed.

"You're not leaning out the window, or going outside to smoke in this weather, Sam." You chided gently, before shuffling up to his side and kissing the scratchy stubble of his cheek, "after all, there could be something in the rain."

His skin smelled like soap as you got comfy against his side. Not too strong; just a faint hint of velvet and something flowery that contrasted with the tobacco tinge of his breath and clothes. It was an odd combo, you were sure. But it didn't stop you loving it.  You smiled as you sighed, relaxing as a strong arm surrounded your waist. He could like smell of, look like, or be anything and you'd still love it. Still love him. Warning after warning from your family and friends alike went over your head. No matter how often they sneered upon his mention, or made snide remarks about his trade, you would never listen. For as far as you were concerned, he was perfect. Despite his past, his habits and affiliations. 

"You should go shower," he mumbled, looking down at you all bundled up in his side, looking ever like the kitten he had a habit of calling you, "and I'll figure out what I can do to stop me from needing a cigarette."

You laughed softly and nodded, sitting up straight, and stretching out your aching limbs.

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple before shooing you off to the bathroom, opting to watch TV as a distraction from his cravings. You had no doubt you'd likely return to him hanging out the bedroom window, cigarette in mouth, and a none too convincing look of guilt on his face. You simply smiled and rolled your eyes at the thought, not bothering to return to hide his lighter and pack again so he couldn't do it. Instead, you undressed and stepped into the shower as the patter of the rain was blurred out by the rush of the shower. Intent on returning to your partner in the other room as fast as you could.


End file.
